And it Was True
by Artie Fowl
Summary: Wilson. He spoke softly, surprising himself, Call me Wilson.


Another bit I thought of. I dunno. Eh, whatever, it's out. Please, enjoy. House/Wilson, Wilson/Julie.

* * *

Wilson rubbed his eyes wearily; elbows outstretched and leaning against his paper filled desk. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his collar was opened just slightly; he was so tired. Not only had he needed to consult with House on one of his patients, but he had met with several of his own. In all honesty, today was a good day; all his patients were treatable, which was a good thing. His night would be better for it and Julie wouldn't complain about his constant tossing and turning.

A quick snort just a few feet away from him brought him back from his reverie and he glanced in the direction of which it came. House was lying on his couch facing him, head propped up against the arm of it. His right arm hung from the couch, his knuckles brushing the carpeted floor just slightly. His left hand held his cane to his body which lay atop him, the handle of it lying against his left shoulder. He had been here waiting for Wilson to finish up his paperwork so he could get a ride home, and in doing so, had fallen asleep.

Wilson leaned back in his chair, it creaking from the weight. He lay his arms against the armrests, taking in the sight for just a moment. It was one of those rare times of when his friend was at peace. That, and he didn't have to keep up with his constant thinking; the bantering back and forth while tossing to each other plausible ideas of why a patient was ill. All of which he didn't have the energy to do right now. He sighed softly as he glanced at the clock on his wall; it was time to go. He stood slowly; quietly, in an attempt to not wake House just yet, as he made his way over to the sleeping man. He came to a stop in front of him, pausing for a moment to drink him in; it wasn't often he got to see the other man so free of his demons.

He eyed House a moment longer, sighing softly as he moved closer, leaning down slightly. He reached outward, just enough to brush his fingertips across his forehead. He fell still for a moment, his fingers then trailing slowly, down his jawbone and faltered slightly as he neared his lips. "Hou -- "

A shrill noise suddenly pierced the silence in the air and Wilson started, immediately recognizing the noise as his cellphone. He fumbled in his pocket as quickly could as House stirred lightly on the couch. Snapping it open, his eyes intent on his friend as he answered, "Wilson."

"Oh, James, where are you?" It was Julie; Wilson exhaled softly as House settled down.

He placed his free hand into his pocket; his gaze still upon his friend, "Hey. What's the matter?"

A shuffle, "Nothing. I was just wondering when you'd be home; it's late. I'm tired."

"Oh, I'll be home in a bit; I had some paperwork to finish up." He paused a moment, licking his lips, "Don't wait up for me; get some sleep."

"But honey..." He heard her shuffle again, "I want you here, beside me."

Wilson closed his eyes momentarily, and silently imagined it was House saying those words to him. He opened them again as his eyes lingered on House's lips, "Mm. I want to be beside you." He refrained from using the word '_too_', because in his mind, he was just telling House exactly what he had been wanting to tell him lately.

"James," She purred, "I want to make love to you tonight."

He swallowed, his eyes never leaving the man on the couch, "I want to make love to you."

House's chest rose and fell deeply; slowly, and his lips parted just slightly. Wilson could see a hint of teeth from behind his lips. He wondered briefly, what the older man would taste like; to have his lips on his. _Coffee_, he mused. _Chips_. His breath hitched for a split second. _Lollipops_; he probably tasted like lollipops. He silently reminded himself to buy a supply of them to toss in his office. Wilson knew that House would probably come in just to steal some. He'd get to see House slowly lick the red candy slick with his saliva, push it past his pink lips and suck gently on it until it was wet enough to roll around on his tongue. Wilson made a sound that could've been easily mistaken for a whimper, his eyes fluttered closed. Julie spoke again, lust clear in her voice, "I know what you want."

"I want what I can't have." A whisper; his chest was tight. And it was true.

Confusion. "What do you mean James? I'm here, waiting for you."

Wilson shook his head as he spoke again, louder, "I - I meant right now."

"Oh." A small laugh came from the other end of the phone, "James... I can give you that."

"You can't." And it was true.

"Oh come on, I've never done this before, but I can try for you..."

Wilson opened his eyes again, his sight focusing back in on House, who still slept soundly. He almost thanked God for vicodin. "Try what?"

Julie laughed again, "So naive." She was silent a moment on the other end and he sighed, ready to give up and tell her he was about to come home when she spoke again, "Phone sex."

He nearly choked on his own spittle and his eyes widened, "What? No. _No_. Not here. I can't."

"What? Why? It's late, no one is there..."

He tilted his head slightly to his left as his eyes trailed down House's thin frame and he licked his lips again, "No. No one is here. It's just me." _And House_, he thought to himself.

"Good. Now get comfortable."

For once, Wilson obliged. He quickly made his way back to his desk and sat down his chair slowly, trying to make sure it didn't groan and creak under his weight -- which of course, it did anyway. He breathed heavily into his phone as he settled down once more, he could hear his wife's breathing picking up as well, but he really wasn't paying attention anyway. He was still watching House who had tilted his head slightly against the arm, almost as if he were facing Wilson.

He ran a free hand over the front of his pants while suppressing a moan as Julie suddenly spoke and he was disappointed at the interruption, "Comfortable?"

"Yes." It was simple, short, quiet. He wanted as much silence as he could have, he didn't want House waking up to this. This was as good as it was going to get for him. He wouldn't normally do something like this, but House was knocked out cold and he was so aroused; if he could snap one off quickly with House right in front of him, he'd be set for at least a couple of months. The image would stay in his head when he pleased himself in the future or, when he had sex with his wife. That would get him through a lot of nights.

"Good." She spoke softly, almost as if she were complying to his wishes of wanting to keep silent. He knew she was trying to sound seductive and lustful, but it wasn't going to work for him. He could only pretend it was House's voice and that he was speaking back to him. "Are you hard, James?"

God, that almost killed the moment. How could he pretend that she was House when she was calling him by his first name? "Wilson." He spoke softly, surprising himself, "Call me Wilson."

"What?" Her voice was louder, and he could practically hear her sitting up and her eyes narrowing, anger slowly seeping into her.

He swallowed again, continuing to rub his hand over his groin, feeling himself hard beneath the few layers of clothes, "It'd... It would be like you came in for a physical. And... We could pretend... You know..."

Julie was quiet for a moment before speaking, her voice low and seductive once more, "Oh, _I_ see. Alright, _Wilson_."

"Mm, yeah..."

"What are you doing?"

"Rubbing myself. Thinking of being inside you."

"Ooh... Yeah... Are you hard?"

"God yes. I've wanted this for so long..." Wilson closed his eyes, his hand sliding quickly across his length, grasping and cupping. "I don't want to wait any more... Please don't make me wait."

If Julie thought the statement was odd, she never gave a clue, she only continued with her little tirade, "Me too, baby. Me too. Take your dick in your hand," Wilson nodded to no one in particular as he shifted quickly, moving his hand up to unfasten his belt.

"Just -- Hold on." Taking off his belt with one hand wasn't going to fly, so he placed his cell phone on his desk and quickly unfastened himself, unzipping his zipper along the way. Seconds later, his dick felt the cool air of the air conditioned office. He hissed quietly, the air feeling strangely nice against his heated flesh. Casting a quick glance over at House, to make sure he was still asleep, he picked up his phone once more, he spoke, "Mm... There."

"That's good, that's good." She moaned softly into the phone, and it felt like she was trying too hard. Wilson frowned down at his desk and wondered why in the hell had his gaze fallen from his friend? God, he felt so damned _guilty_, but damn did it feel _good_. His eyes crawled back upwards to House and he exhaled deeply, his hand tightening around himself. His eyes cut to slits as he slowly began to stroke himself, a slow and steady rhythm as he found himself gazing at House's own groin. He moaned quietly, "Oh, Wilson. I hear you. I can hear you. I want you to come."

Wilson's brows furrowed as he half-heartedly listened to her. Every time her voice sounded, he was brought back to reality where it was his wife he was _listening_ to, and House he was _masturbating_ to. "I'm going to..."

"I know baby, I'll make you come." Her voice was rushed, and he could hear her own orgasm approaching; she always came quickly. He could never take it slow with her, and he regretted that; he liked to make love. He wondered if House was fast, or slow; if he liked to be touched and caressed. _God_... He closed his eyes again. Just the thought of House lying down on his bed, beneath him, caressing his body. Just being able to trail his hands down House's lithe form, was almost enough to make him spill right then. He could only imagine the look in his eyes as he did it; he wanted to see House's eyes. For him to give him that soul piercing gaze as he touched him lovingly; he wanted to see how House would react, when he had found that Wilson could love him so unconditionally, see past his faults, his shunning personality. Oh _God_.

"James?" Julie's voice brought him back, he apparently had gone quiet long enough for her to notice. He frowned again at the intrusion, "James? Are you still there?"

"Wilson." He commanded, gritting his teeth as his motions quickened, his eyes falling on House once more. He licked his lips as his breathing picked up; his breath hitched as House swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly with the action.

"Wilson," She said softly, almost as if she were unsure now. "Wilson, come for me..."

He had to reassure her, "I always do right by my patients."

This seemed to be good enough for her, and she got back into the mood quickly. Minutes later, her labored breathing passed over on the phone and she was close once more. "Ja -- Wilson, I'm going to come..."

"Come then..." Wilson said softly, fighting his closing eyes as he watched House, who continued to lie still on his couch.

Her breathing came quicker and he closed his eyes, trying with all his might to imagine House; but her voice was so distracting. "James -- !"

That was it; he dropped his phone to the floor; it landed with a soft thud and it was then that House emitted a soft groan, and shifted slightly on the couch. Wilson's eyes opened at the sound and saw that House had his fist wrapped tightly around his cane; he couldn't take the imagery anymore and came, his right hand capturing the edge of his desk. His body stiffened, as his lower body bucked slightly upwards; he tried so hard to hide it as he felt himself pulse in his hand, his come spilling over his hand in small short bursts, slowing over time.

It was quick and it was hot; his mouth parted slightly and he moaned as silently as he could, which was no small feat. His hand squeezed around himself, coaxing the orgasm from his body, softly chanting House's name, over and over again. He moaned low, the sound coming from the back of his throat, his breath coming from him slowly, deliberately. He tried his damnedest not to pant, and lay his head back against his chair, watching House through half-lidded eyes. He half-heartedly wondered what House would say if he knew what Wilson was doing while he was sitting there sleeping.

He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly after a moment. He glanced down at his left hand, where he was slowly stroking himself through the warm, slick fluid. For a moment, he wondered if House swallowed. Immediately, Wilson felt dirty, and he blushed despite himself. His eyes traveled back to his friend. Absentmindedly, he reached into one of his drawers and pulled out a handkerchief with his free hand; he'd have to remember to wash it later. He wiped himself slowly, closing his eyes, imagining it was House helping to clean him up. After he was done, he tossed the cloth under his desk, he would grab it tomorrow when no one was looking.

His foot bumped into something small as he did so, and some part of his brain registered that his wife was probably still on the phone, and so he leaned down and picked it up from the floor, he was surprised to find her still there. "Hey."

Her breathing was still heavy when she spoke and Wilson stood slowly, straightening and fastening his pants; fixing himself up, "Oh, James... I thought I lost you."

_You already have,_ he thought bitterly. She was definitely ruining his high. "I'm sorry, heh. I was overwhelmed. I have to... clean up now."

"Mm... Of course. I'll see you when I get home." She sounded as if she expected more. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't going to be able to make good on her expectations. He heard her yawn and he hoped to God that she would still be asleep when he got there, "I love you."

Wilson nodded, making his way toward his couch again. He stopped, standing just over the other man, his eyes soft as he stared intently at the other man. His stare was as piercing as if House was giving it himself. He tucked the receiving end of his phone just slightly under his chin, just enough so that Julie would still hear him -- if almost just barely. He spoke; his voice louder than than it had been all night, "I love you." And it was true.

"I'll see you when you get here."

His brows furrowed, her voice grating on him, "Yeah." And with that, his phone snapped shut, turned on vibrate and then quickly stuffed back into his pocket. Wilson sighed, reaching down and gently shaking the older man's shoulder. House groaned as he shook his head, and Wilson closed his eyes again; that sound would forever be etched into his mind. "House, get up. Time to go."

He was rougher than needed; but he needed something to off-put the fact that he just had a mind-shattering orgasm while masturbating to the man that was lying -- for once -- innocently on his couch. House's eyebrows rose as his eyes opened, just a bit, warding off the flooding light, "What?"

"I'm finished." _In more ways than one_, he thought, stepping back from the man. "We can go now."

His friend, sat up, using his right hand to help swing his bad leg to reach the floor so he could sit properly. "This is the last gotdamned time I sit around and wait for you." He growled, "This couch has got to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever had the displeasure of sleeping on."

Wilson rolled his eyes, thankful for the banter. "Oh great and dear Lord House, how can I _ever_ repay you?" He asked, mockingly.

House glared up at him, "Sex." Wilson froze, his eyes wide, "And I want good sex too."

"Uh..." Wilson's eyes darted quickly from House's face, to his groin, and back again. "I... "

House's head tilted, and his brows furrowed as he stared at his friend, as if he just suddenly became one of the world's most interesting puzzles, "Something's wrong." It was a statement, not a question.

Wilson stuttered, his hands reaching into his pockets, "I just -- That was unexpected. I thought you'd ask me to cover some clinic hours or something."

House looked genuinely confused, and he stood slowly; stiffly. The night on the couch had not done well for him, his back, or his leg. He stretched as well as he could, eying Wilson. The man seemed a little disheveled, his brows furrowed once more, "...Rough night?"

"Mm, yeah." Wilson nodded, turning away quickly to hide the blush that was slowly creeping across his cheeks. He made his way back over to his desk, reaching down and grabbed his bag and then slipped his overcoat off the back of his chair, flipping it over his shoulder only to let it hang there.

"It smells funny in here." Wilson jumped, startled by the soft, yet harsh voice. He turned, only to find House standing directly behind him, leaning on his cane heavily with both hands. House leaned in closer, sniffing his friend, "You smell that?"

Wilson's words stuck in his throat as his friend moved close in on him, his head tilted slightly backwards as House sniffed him once more. He closed his eyes; the proximity of his friend making things possible for another round... He may have to wake up his wife when he got home. His eyes opened slowly, only to find House's peering back at him. "Um... Well, I _have_ been in here all day."

"It's not that." And it was true.

He swallowed, and House left his personal space, wheeling as best he could away from the young doctor. Wilson let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, "It's just your imagination, House."

House grunted in obvious disagreement, tilting his head slightly and swiftly towards the door, an indication that he was ready to leave.

Wilson nodded, opening the door and House hobbled out slowly, "Sorry, House."

The other man didn't stop, "What for?"

"Everything."

And it was true.


End file.
